The Truth That You Refuse

Chapter 1: Observation

"There are moments when even to the sober eye of Reason, the world of our sad humanity must assume the aspect of Hell"-Edgar Allan Poe

The blue twinkle of Luke Skywalker's eyes was revealed when he awoke from his deep slumber. His aunt had always described them as the depths of a nebula, beautiful colors that only the Gods themselves could have imagined. Uncle Owen more bluntly described them as the sublight thruster nozzles on the back of a star destroyer.

Immediately following his sudden awakening, Luke noticed a strange empty feeling inside himself, as if an old friend had abandoned him. Glancing at the back of his hand he noticed the small pores had tightened and formed miniscule bumps. The 'shivers', Biggs had called them, back home on Tatooine, during the rare cold nights.

Luke looked further down his body to see not a thermal taun-taun blanket, a frequent comfort for the nights on Coruscant, but instead the black, skintight Jedi uniform he had grown accustomed to wearing. Staring up at the ceiling, Luke saw dark stains interspersed between cracks where plant roots had pushed their way through, although it was hard to see much in the dimly lit room. Propping himself up with his elbows, the Jedi master noticed that the walls were completely barren of decoration except for the occasional stain. Where am I?

Come to think about it, he could not recall the last place he had been. The only thing that came to his mind was going to see Mon Mothma for the approval of something…

At the far end of the room facing him, a metal door stood with a small view-port on top and what looked like a sliding entrance at the bottom. As if on cue, the miniature door at the bottom slid open to allow the passage of what looked like a tray.

"Hey!" Luke shouted, trying to garner the attention of the person on the other side. But by the time he had yelled the door had slid shut again. Examining it closer, Luke saw what he recognized to be at least a dozen or so ration cubes and a tall bottle of water. Hardly a 'meal' if you asked him; even the emergency food inside his starfighter had been better than this. Nevertheless, he ate was given to him. Enhanced by artificial chemicals, the rations' flavor matched their dietary equivalent.

The logical amount of water he drank afterwards was a small portion of the total container. Better to sacrifice privileges than to divulge in my desires. After all, he knew not when he would get another 'meal'.

Finished with his food, the Jedi stood up and shuffled to the door allowing his stilted legs to recuperate. Peering through the top glass view-port, the outside hallway bore a resemblance to his present room: a depressing and gloomy feel. It was only one hall, no adjacent corridors but just a single path with several doors to the left and right until finally it ended with another door.

After a few seconds of watching he noticed that there seemed to be movement at the far end: the door was opening. Out came a figure with a bag covering its face. Luke could only tell it was a woman by her legs and chest. Behind her, a taller man with a well-defined face emerged holding a blaster to her back. He was dressed in a unique fashion with rags and drapes flowing around him. In Luke's mind he looked like something you might find in the depths of the Coruscant streets.

Reluctantly the captive moved forward, if only to escape the brutal stabs at her back with the butt of his blaster, stopping at a the entrance to one of the doors to the left of the corridor. The man, or Raggedy Andrew he had started to call him based on an old Corellian child's toy, entered a series of codes into a panel next to the door. It released itself with a rustic sound and the woman was forced into the cell by Raggedy Andrew. He closed the door, locked it with the panel and fled the hallway.

There was no denying it now, he was being held prisoner just like the woman he had seen just moments earlier. Thoughts of torture and desperation rant through his head. Along the back of his neck his hairs stood up, his pine tingled down his back, and on his forehead sweat formulated despite the chill temperature. A renegade terrorist group hoping to deal with the New Republic for his ransom? A crazed group of Imperials taking revenge on the government? Or perhaps someone's way of saying "Hello. We're about to conquer your galaxy. Here's a taste of what we're all about." by killing him?

The more he thought about it the more he was convinced that the latter was less likely. Wouldn't they have killed me by now? Unless…they wanted it to be a public execution. Leaning his back against the wall, Luke slouched down to the floor and used his arms to cradle his body. In this moment of despair, he looked to the place he could always trust in his heart: his family. Images of Han, Leia and him seeped through his mind, memories that he wasn't sure he would ever have again. Although he had many friends in the Republic, none compared to the powerful bond he shared with the two of them. Closing his eyes, allowing himself to enter a state of meditation, Luke tried to send a ripple through the Force.

Nothing.

He tried again, this time with more determination. The expected response from the Force that he had grown accustomed to during his life wasn't there. Instead he felt a cold, vacant space like the depths of a black hole.

Using a different tactic, Luke tried to levitate the empty tray.

Nothing. Not even so much as a vibration. His brow furrowed in confusion. Not those ysalarmi again. Yet somehow he doubted it.

The minutes passed by, all the while the Jedi avoided the facts: Han and Leia weren't going to save him. There would be no heroic rescue by the Republic. Wedge would not save the day, lasers blazing as he blasted enemy fighters out of the sky. Ben Kenobi wasn't here to offer advice. And the scariest truth of it all: the Force would not be there to aid him. Finally after in deep thought about his future, Luke succumbed to sleep and it was not until hours later when the cell door rattled open did he wake up.

Emerging from the hallway, a young man of his late twenties entered. In complete contrast to Raggedy Andrew, he was neatly dressed, adorned mostly in black except for the white undershirt beneath his heavy jacket. Dark circles were prominent beneath his green eyes. On top of his head, the dark brown color of his hair protruded from his widow's peak; almost like a wave of dark chocolate.

"Get up," the sharp, yet firm voice told him, "Follow me and don't talk. Are we clear?"

Without waiting for a response the man exited the room, while Luke reluctantly followed him into the hallway. As he walked behind him, he glanced to either side of him. In one cell he saw a boy who looked barely of age. In another, the woman he saw earlier was lying in a heap on the floor, with her brown-red hair covering her face.

Entering into the door at the far end behind him, he observed a small, round room with three halls leading out from it. They entered the left hall, which looked every bit as rundown and depressing as the rooms before it. The man entered a series of numbers into a panel beside the door at the end of this hallway and the door unlocked itself. Leaning close to the man, Luke noticed the odd smell of sulphur.

As he presumed, this room was devoid of all decoration with only a table and two chairs on either side. Walking to far side of the table, the man motioned to the chair closest to Luke. "Please, sit."

"Now," the man said, getting comfortable, "Why don't I introduce myself. I'm Lynbe Lisel, and you are Starrunner?"

"Skywalker."

"Right, of course," Lynbe replied, "let's get down to business, shall we?"

"Where am I and why am I here?" Luke bluntly stated, "I'll give you anything if you just let me free: fame, money, land…whatever."

"I'm afraid that's not necessary. Neither I, nor my master, have any need for your alien pleasures. What I want from you is your corporation."
"You're not going to get my cooperation if I don't get some answers." Luke said. "Where am I?"

Lynbe looked towards his right then slowly rotated to the left, as if debating his answer. "If it means your cooperation…we're on Coruscant."

And as Lynbe finished pronouncing those three syllables, Luke felt the undeniable joy of hope. Yes, it was a desperate and small thread of hope yet…it was still enough. He had hope that he would see his friends again. Hope that once he fled from this facility that everything would be right again, to fight another day. As these thoughts processed through his mind, Luke felt a spark of victory strike his heart. It was a small step forward to his goal, but a step forward nonetheless.

Lisel spoke up again. "Make no mistake, Skywalker. Just because you are close to your beloved New Republic, by no means does that make your chances of any sort of escape any higher." Lynbe continued as if he was reading the death sentence of a hated adversary. "You will not leave this facility, mark my words."

Man is a creature of hope and invention, both of which believe the idea that things cannot be changed.-- Tom Clancy